


It’s Only Blood

by seaunicorn



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaunicorn/pseuds/seaunicorn
Summary: Beau startled awake, shaking and sweating. Her breath was heavy as she grasped at her chest, blindly reaching for a blade that wasn’t there.It was just a dream.Beau dreams about Yasha... and those dreams turn into nightmares. (Post episode 69)





	It’s Only Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is from the song It’s Only by Odesza.
> 
> CW: Mentions of sex and violence. The sex is not graphic but the violence is.

Beau’s back fell against the door as it slammed shut behind them. Her head banged against the wood as Yasha’s lips pressed against her own. Teeth sank gently into her bottom lip, stinging delightfully, and then a smooth tongue immediately swiped across, soothing the pain.

Beau’s head throbbed as pushed herself off the door and ignored the pain. She pressed forward into Yasha’s body so she blindly staggered backwards. They collided into the dresser, lips still latched together, and came to a halt.

Beau groaned as Yasha slipped her arms around her waist to lift her up off the floor. “Bed?” Beau murmured against her lips as she hooked her legs around Yasha’s body.

Yasha nodded vigorously, and Beau’s heart raced as strong arms carried her easily across the room and deposited her on the bed.

Yasha towered over Beau who was sprawled out on her back. Her eyes were hungry and a devious smirk landed on her lips. Beau gasped as Yasha’s hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

“Oh fuck.”

And Yasha’s mouth was on her again, much more aggressive than before. As she kissed Beau’s lips with a bruising force, her teeth dug in until they began to draw blood.  _ Hot _ , Beau thought as a hint of the familiar copper taste filled her mouth. She moved across Beau’s jaw, down her neck, biting just hard enough to be out of her comfort zone.

“Yash,” Beau gasped with a chuckle. “It’s hot, but maybe a little easy on the teeth.”

The vice grip on her wrists loosened for a moment, but only long enough for Yasha to pull Beau’s top out of the way and nibble her way down Beau’s chest.

“ _ Fuck _ .” Beau’s breath caught as teeth grazed her nipple tentatively, then bit down hard. “Whoa, Yasha.”

Yasha’s hands moved from her wrists. One slid down Beau’s body as nails scratched at her stomach. Beau’s skin was on fire with every touch. Yasha’s hand sank lower and lower until it slipped under the waistband of Beau’s pants.

The other hand wrapped around her throat.

“Oh shit,” Beau gasped, eyes wide as the cold, calloused fingers on the sensitive skin of her throat squeezed. “Um, maybe we could save the breath play for next time?”

Yasha ignored her once again, and squeezed tighter. Beau coughed, unprepared for the oxygen being cut off from her lungs. She began to squirm, trying to free herself, but Yasha would not relent.

“Yasha, not tonight,” she choked out.

The grip stayed on Beau’s throat, but the hand between her legs disappeared. Instinctively, Beau let out a disappointed sigh, but the ever-tightening hand around her throat made that difficult.

What Beau didn’t expect was for Yasha to reach behind her back and unsheathe her blade. Before a question could even begin to form on her lips, the look in Yasha’s eyes turned into a cold, unfamiliar glare, and she drove the Magician’s Judge directly into Beau’s chest.

Beau startled awake, shaking and sweating. Her breath was heavy as she grasped at her chest, blindly reaching for a blade that wasn’t there.

_ It was just a dream. _

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky through Caleb’s dome. Another crystal clear night, stars as far as the eye could see. No distant rumble of thunder, no far off flashes of lightning, not even a fucking cloud.

“Bad dream?”

Beau lifted her head to find Caduceus sitting cross-legged by the dying embers of the fire, eyes closed, as he sipped a cup of tea.

He studied her, and Beau felt scrutinized under his gaze. There was no use lying. Caduceus was too insightful and would see right through any attempt she made. She didn’t want any of his sage wisdom though. Not right now.

“Yeah,” Beau muttered, voice gruff. “I’m good. I’ll just stay up for next watch, you can go to sleep.”

Caduceus just raised an eyebrow at her, but made no move to protest. He drained his cup of tea and made his way to their group of sleeping friends. Beau took his place by the fire, but instead of sitting she began to pace back and forth, ignoring the way the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she felt Caduceus watching her.

_ I don’t care _ , she told herself. _ Yasha is gone. If we get her back, great! If not... _

Beau didn’t want to think about that. The hope of finding Yasha and getting her back was the only thing keeping her sane.

She knew she would break eventually.

  
  
  
  


Beau was not known for being a gentle lover. She found it much hotter when things were rough and fast. It was easier that way. She had a good time, and it was how she trusted herself to not get attached.

Beau was a hit it and quit it kind of woman. She didn’t like getting attached to people. At least, not romantically.

What surprised her was how easy kissing Yasha was. For once, Beau didn’t want to rush through things. She wanted to take her time and enjoy this intimacy for the first time in a very long time.

Yasha’s lips were soft against hers as they kissed. Yasha had so much strength within her, but the way that she gently cupped Beau’s cheek made Beau forget that she was a trained warrior. There was no blood on her hands, just tender heat that clouded Beau’s thoughts.

Beau rolled on top of Yasha, straddling her hips. She looked down at the pale cheeks that were flushed pink, the matted hair splayed out against the pillows beneath her. She was  _ beautiful _ . Yasha’s hand left her cheek and reached out to grab Beau’s hand, tangling their fingers together. Beau froze for a moment at the intimate gesture, but when Yasha’s tongue pushed past her lips, all of her worries were forgotten.

Quickly, Yasha flipped them so she was on top of Beau and kissed her lips briefly, before moving down to her jaw, tracing her tongue down her neck. Yasha peppered kisses along Beau’s collarbones, and down to the soft flesh of her breasts where her lips grazed and sucked gently, not even hard enough to leave any marks. Yasha’s touch was so gentle, so careful, and so desperate.

Beau had never felt this vulnerable before. Each touch of Yasha’s lips sent shivers down her spine. Every new place her tongue traveled elicited a breathy sigh or a strangled moan as Beau struggled to keep herself composed. Her fingers threaded into Yasha’s dark hair, pulling her closer against her body. Beau had never felt this way before but she needed more, more,  _ more _ , and Yasha was so willing to give.

Beau’s skin was hot to the touch as Yasha’s hands ran down her abs, and Yasha’s head raised until her lips were on Beau’s again.

Beau’s eyes closed, basking in the feeling of her soft, chapped lips, kissing her thoroughly. She sucked lightly on Beau’s bottom lip, tugging it gently, and Beau gasped into her mouth and clutched desperately at her back.

Beau was so caught up in kissing Yasha, pouring every ounce of repressed emotion into each touch, that it took a moment to notice the stabbing pain in her abdomen.

Beau gasped in pain.

She pulled away from Yasha and coughed. The copper taste of blood filled her mouth, and she opened her eyes and saw droplets of blood freckled along Yasha’s pale skin. Beau’s head fell back against the bed as she looked up.

The Yasha that looked into her eyes was not the one that she knew and loved. Yasha smiled, but there was a glare on her brow and the toothy grin made her skin crawl uncomfortably. Yasha’s touch had felt so safe just a moment ago, but now Beau was terrified. She tried to squirm away, but the stabbing pain in her abdomen grew worse and held her in place.

Beau glanced down to find the Skin Gouger embedded deep into her stomach, pinning her to the bed.

“Y—Yasha?” Beau coughed, and more blood spilled from her lips. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

The smile on Yasha’s face just grew.

“Why?” Beau gasped.

Yasha twisted the blade and Beau cried out as the searing pain burned her from the inside.

Beau’s eyes flew open and she startled awake. She shot upright, panting, and glanced around at the small cave where they had made camp for the night. Caleb was awake, on watch, looking at her with a frown that she couldn’t read. Caduceus and Jester were lying down, but both appeared to have been woken from their sleep by Beau’s cry, and they looked to her with concern and fear in their eyes.

_ Shit _ , she thought.

Beau had already made eye contact, but instead of acknowledging them, she laid back down and closed her eyes. She hoped they would ignore her and go back to sleep.

She wasn’t so lucky.

“Beauregard,” Caleb muttered, clearing his throat. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Beau grumbled.

“Was it a bad dream?” Jester asked. “I get bad dreams too, sometimes. Do you want to talk about it? That might help.”

“Not really.”

“I think she’s just worried about our friend,” Caduceus said.

Beau sat again and glared at him. How the  _ fuck _ did he know what she was  _ dreaming _ about?

“We all miss Yasha, Beau,” Jester said. “But we are really close to finding her and saving her. I’m so sure we will have her back in no time.”

Beau ignored them and stood up. “I’m going for a walk,” she muttered. “ _ Don’t _ follow me.” She ignored their protests as she stepped out of the bubble and into the cave, walking further away toward the cave entrance.

It was raining, but more of a pleasant drizzle. Not the kind of storm that Beau had been keeping an eye out for. She stood under the cave entrance for a moment, staring out into the dark night as the water fell in front of her face for a moment before she stepped out into the world.

It was barely drizzling. The rain misted her face as it fell, her clothes barely getting damp underneath the water. It was no storm, but it was the closest she was going to get.

She pulled on her Darkvision goggles and looked up at the sky. The clouds were light and further in the distance, looked to disperse a little. No dark, gray clouds, not even the promise of a storm far off past the mountains. She huffed.

It’s not like she was going to talk to the Storm Lord or something. Beau’s relationship with deities was distant at best. She worshipped Ioun more as a formality to the Cobalt Soul. She trusted the Traveler because Jester trusted him. She trusted the Wild Mother because Caduceus trusted her.

Yasha didn’t trust the Storm Lord, though. She owed him a debt because he saved her. But he must have saved her for a  _ reason _ , right? Why wasn’t he looking out for her that night in the cave as they fought Oban and the Laughing Hand? Why wasn’t he helping them save her now.

Beau thought back to her dream, how intimate things were, and how much she enjoyed that. She knew she was attracted to Yasha of course; she had been since the moment they met. But this was more than base attraction, and it scared Beau.

She had feelings for Yasha. Actual, real, romantic-like feelings.

_ Fuck. _

It was then that Beau could have sworn she heard a distant rumble of thunder, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. She must have imagined it, her subconscious searching desperately for any thread of hope.

Beau turned around and marched back to camp where her friends slept.

Jester had dozed off again, snoring happily, hopefully dreaming of gumdrops or unicorns or some shit. Caduceus looked asleep but was probably listening for the sound of her footsteps.

Caleb looked up from the book he was reading. “Beauregard?”

“Fuck off.”

At least Caleb had was smart enough to listen to her, and so Beau curled up on the ground once again, pulled her cloak around herself, and willed herself to fall back asleep.

It was a restless slumber for the rest of the night.

  
  
  
  


They were camping on the beach tonight. It was Jester’s idea, really. That girl loved the beach. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Any number of creatures or bandits could find them while they slept, so they were still keeping watch and taking shelter under Caleb’s bubble.

When Beau volunteered for the first watch, she hadn’t expected Yasha to volunteer to join her.

Beau sat cross-legged, facing the waves, just far enough from the bubble that she couldn’t hear Jester’s snores. She didn’t even hear the footsteps behind her until Yasha sat down next to her, mimicking her position.

“This sand is so soft,” Yasha muttered. She picked up a handful of sand and let it fall through her fingers back onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s some good sand.”

Yasha chuckled. “And I love the sound of the waves. It’s almost as relaxing as the sound of rainfall.”

“Yeah, not a lot of beaches in Xhorhas.”

“No, there aren’t.”

“I grew up so far inland and we didn’t venture out to the coast a lot,” Beau said. “I didn’t see the beach until the first time we went to Nicodranas to meet Jester’s mom.”

“I missed that beach day, didn’t I?” Yasha mused.

“And the one after that,” Beau said with a soft chuckle. “But I’m glad you’re here now.” She turned her head to meet Yasha’s eyes, feeling like she could easily fall apart under her gaze.

“Me too.”

Beau looked out to the waves again. She had always found them so relaxing, the rhythmic crashing of strong waves against the shore. She still wasn’t great at the whole meditation thing because her short attention span made it hard for her to sit still for long periods of time, but she loved meditating on the beach; the sound gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her wandering thoughts.

Her eyes closed, and she inhaled, smelling the salty beach air. She let the strong coastal breeze whip her loose hairs across her face. She buried her bare feet in the sand and felt the rough grains against her skin.

Beau felt Yasha’s strong, calloused fingers wrap around her own and give a light squeeze. You wouldn’t think someone like Yasha who, at first glance appeared intimidating and ferocious, would be capable of such a gentle gesture.

Beau’s eyes opened again and she found Yasha watching her with a curious fascination, the same way Beau sometimes found herself watching Yasha.

Beau bit her lip and glanced up to meet Yasha’s eyes.

“I’m happy to be here with  _ you _ , Beau.”

Beau forgot how to breathe for a moment. Yasha looked so beautiful, moonlight reflected in her eyes, skin a ghostly pale; she seemed almost ethereal as her dark hair whipped in the wind. Beau swallowed. “Um, ditto.”

Yasha leaned in and squeezed Beau’s hand tighter. Her other hand came up to Beau’s cheek and cupped it gently, and her fingers brushed against her skin, tracing along an old scar.

“You are so beautiful,” Yasha breathed, eyes intense as they studied Beau’s face, and her gaze fell down to Beau’s lips.

They both leaned in, closing the last few inches that separated them. Beau’s lips met Yasha’s in a soft, tentative kiss. It was simple, but so much more intimate than any kiss Beau had ever had before. She was so used to kissing with a demanding intensity, with an end goal in mind, but this was none of that. And it was everything she wanted from Yasha.

Beau’s eyes fluttered open, and found Yasha’s once again. Something seemed… off, but she couldn’t place it.

As Beau wondered this, a wicked grin appeared on Yasha’s lips and her skeletal wings sprung from her back. Though Beau had once found them incredibly attractive, she was suddenly struck with fear at the terrifying accoutrement. She frantically backed away from Yasha.

Yasha got to her feet, towering over Beau, and drew a dark onyx colored blade that Beau didn’t recognize.

“Pathetic,” Yasha said, in a cold, unfamiliar voice. She raised the sword over her head, and Beau’s eyes closed as it was about to slice her in half.

Beau jumped awake with a gasp. The rain showered around them, but the bubble they all slept inside was untouched by the downpour. Wind whipped at the trees around them, and the thunder roared.

Thankfully, no one stirred as Beau startled awake. She did, however, see Caduceus leaning back against a tree trunk that was just within the bubble. He gave her a nod.

“Bad dream?”

Beau rolled her eyes as she sat up. She didn’t look at him as she answered and instead stared blankly ahead and rested her chin on her knees. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Yasha again?”

“ _ Caduceus _ …” Beau warned.

Caduceus showed his hands as a gesture of innocence, but Beau’s glare didn’t falter. “Maybe something in the universe wants you to talk to me about this.”

“Maybe fate is bullshit and you just happen to be a light sleeper.”

“Also a possibility.”

Beau laid back on the ground with a frustrated huff. “It’s not getting any easier. We’re nowhere closer to finding her and the fucking Storm Lord isn’t doing shit to help.”

All of a sudden, a bolt of lightning shot out of the sky, only about sixty feet from where they slept. The rumble of thunder that followed was almost instantaneous.

Beau looked up at the sky. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you, dude.”

Silence.

Beau’s fists clenched at her side. “Normally I wouldn’t recommend speaking to any powerful gods in such a manner,” Caduceus mused, “but I have heard the Storm Lord responds well to force.”

“You want force?” Beau muttered. She rose to her feet and stormed out of the bubble and into the pouring rain before Caduceus could stop her.

The rain fell onto her skin like a sheet of ice cold water poured over her head from a never ending bucket. It kept falling as the water seeped into her clothes, her hair, her shoes, until she was completely soaking wet from head to toe after only a few seconds out in the open.

She stormed through the pouring rain to where the lightning struck the ground. Even through the rain, it was easy enough to find. The ground was dark and charred, the plants were burnt to a crisp, smoking as the rain quickly put out any fires that caught when the bolt struck.

Beau found what looked to be the center, stood there fists clenched, and looked up at the sky. The rain pounded into her skin. Beau took a deep breath and raised her voice.

“YOU LET HER GO!”

She used all her volume, but was still barely audible over the roar of the storm.

“YOU LET HER GO AND NOW YOU WON’T FUCKING HELP US GET HER BACK! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN SAVE HER?”

The storm raged on around her. Lightning struck nearby, but not close enough for Beau to grow fearful or retreat. 

She inhaled once more, and called out, “YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD!”

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice, and who knows if that’s true, but this next bolt struck pretty damn close to where Beau stood. The force of the lightning that scorched the ground a mere ten feet away was enough to throw Beau off her feet.

Maybe the bastard  _ was _ listening.

She was on the ground, covered in mud and dirt, and as she tried to lift herself off the ground, she couldn’t. She found her muscles frozen for a moment as a searing pain shot up her arm. Beau closed her eyes. Inhale. Exhale.

With a clear mind, she willed her muscles to function again and pushed herself off the ground. Once she was on her feet she took a look at her arm.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She saw the fresh burn where the scorch of the lightning strike had seared into her skin. Maybe she was closer to that bolt than she thought.

Beau’s arm felt like it was on fire, but the rest of her body still felt slightly numb. She limped her way back to the bubble and collapsed as soon as she was out of the rain.

With her eyes closed, she heard the patter of Caduceus’ footsteps as he made his way over and crouched down next to her. He placed his hand directly over where her skin burned the most, and after a moment, she felt cool relief wash over her body. It still throbbed with a dull ache, but it was better.

Beau opened one eye and watched as Caduceus wordlessly sauntered back to his perch by the tree trunk and sat down again.

“Thanks,” Beau muttered. Caduceus said nothing, but she could have sworn she saw a content smirk on his face before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep once again. She would worry about what to tell the others in the morning.

  
  
  
  


Beau spat out a nasty mix of blood and dirt that was starting to congeal on her tongue. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and picked herself up off her knees, glaring up at Yasha’s form looming over her.

“That’s all you got?” Beau asked with a hoarse laugh. “I could’ve sworn you were a better fighter than this before.”

She gave Yasha a swift kick to the gut, knocking the wind out of her for a moment, then lunged forward for another punch. Yasha’s hand easily caught her fist and squeezed tight.

It hurt, but Beau wasn’t going to let her know that. She had been hurt worse before. She steeled herself and glared at the strange woman. It looked like Yasha, it sounded like Yasha, but there was no way this monster was Yasha.

Yasha’s hand twisted Beau’s arm uncomfortably, holding her in place. Her other arm swung backwards, sword in hand, and brought the blade down on Beau’s shoulder.

The blade sunk in deeper than Beau thought possible, slicing through bone like butter. Beau closed her eyes, expecting for this nightmare to end, to wake up, safe inside their dome with Caduceus keeping watch, to find Yasha still gone—maybe she’d try to antagonize a god again—but the relief of waking up never came.

Beau opened her eyes again just in time to see Yasha give her a menacing smirk and pull the blade out of her body. She couldn’t hold back the pained shriek that left her throat as it happened. Hot, sticky blood poured out of the new injury. Beau tried to throw another punch, but her arm was too weak to even move. She tried to wiggle her fingers to no avail.

As Yasha’s grip dropped on her fist that was still being held, Beau’s knees grew week and she fell to the ground again, slumping forward. The last thing she saw before her eyes grew dark and she fell face first into the dirt was the gleeful look in Yasha’s eyes shift to something else as she watched Beau fall. She thought she saw tears spring to her eyes, but before she could tell for certain, everything went black.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds that Beau was out, but she woke up to a mouthful of dirt and rolled onto her back. She was unsurprised to find Caduceus hovering over her. The wound where Yasha’s sword cleaved into her was still gaping, still fresh, but at least Caduceus’ healing magic had stopped the bleeding for now.

Beau flexed her fingers and clenched her fist. It hurt like hell, but at least she could move it.

Caduceus offered a hand to help her to her feet, and Beau graciously took it with her good arm. As she got to her feet, she turned around to find that Yasha’s attention had been redirected to Jester.

Yasha’s sword swung forward through the top of Jester’s head.

“NO!” Beau screamed.

The relief she felt when the sword passed through Jester’s illusory duplicate was indescribable.

Jester’s duplicate laughed, then stepped forward on her tiptoes, grabbed Yasha by the cheeks, and kissed her on the forehead. A green glow was cast briefly over the two of them, and a moment later, Jester vanished.

Yasha was stunned. She stumbled backwards, blinking rapidly as a hand flew up to her forehead. She shook her head, muttering, “No, no, no, no, no…” The sword she clutched fell out of her grasp and landed on the ground with a thud.

Beau braced herself, holding to attack if she did anything, and Caduceus readied his staff, but they held still, watching, waiting.

Finally, Yasha looked up and met Beau’s eyes.

It was Yasha.

Beau wasn’t sure how she knew from just a glance, but she did. Yasha’s eyes were drawn to the massive gash in Beau’s shoulder.

“Beau,” Yasha murmured, her voice too gentle for the middle of battle. “I—I hurt you.”

“Oh, this?” Beau asked, short of breath, as she gestured to the gaping wound. “It’s just a scratch.”

Yasha took a step closer, and Beau fought her instinct to flinch. It was just Yasha.

Yasha’s hands came to rest on her shoulder, over the place where her blade carved into her. Beau looked up and met Yasha’s teary eyes as this soothing warmth emitted from her hands and poured into her. When her hands pulled away, Beau watched as bone reaffixed itself together, and the skin haphazardly sealed itself over the wound, leaving a very fresh, massive scar.

The additional healing magic Yasha used made Beau feel less like she was about to throw up, and more like she could actually take a few more hits in this fight.

After ensuring that Beau wasn’t going to fall unconscious at any moment, pulled her hands away and stepped back. She averted her gaze away from Beau’s eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

Yasha kept her distance, kept her arms at her sides, fists clenched, as though she was afraid of herself, afraid of what she might do.

Beau took a tentative step forward.

When Yasha didn’t move, she closed the distance and threw her arms around Yasha, holding her tight. She heard a sob escape Yasha’s lips.

“It’s not your fault,” Beau muttered into her chest. “It’s not your fault.”

The sound of an explosion and the searing heat of Caleb’s nearby fireball reminded them that they were still in the middle of a fight.

Yasha spun around, eyes fixed on Obann, the person who had used her, controlled her, put her through so much pain. Beau clenched her fists, ready to lunge into action and beat the living shit out of him, but Yasha stopped her with a gentle touch on her shoulder.

“This is my fight.”

She picked up her sword from the ground and Beau watched as Yasha raised the Magician’s Judge and charged into the fray, a gleam of vengeance in her eyes.

  
  
  
  


After the battle, after people had been healed, after they had some food, and some well-needed drinks, the Mighty Nein went to rest up after their close scrape with death.

Obann had gotten away. This fight wasn’t over, it wasn’t anywhere near being over. But they had their friend back, and honestly? That was all Beau cared about at the moment.

Dairon always advised her to keep friends and allies an arms length away, not to get too close, but their small, rag-tag found family hadn’t felt complete since Yasha left. So Beau was grateful.

Beau’s body ached as she laid down to sleep off the battle. Jester was already snoring on the other side of the room, but something kept Beau from drifting off. Then, she heard the creak of the floorboards outside her room.

Curious, Beau crept to the door and opened it quietly. She poked her head out just in time to see Yasha’s white tipped hair flowing behind her as she disappeared downstairs.

Beau followed after her, keeping her distance. She noticed that Yasha had a small bag of her belongings and all her weapons at her side as she slipped out of the inn and attempted to disappear into the night.

Beau pushed open the front door. “Yasha,” she called out.

Yasha froze in her tracks, but did not turn around. Beau closed the difference between them until she stood behind her, unsure of what to say.

“What do you want, Beau?”

“Where are you going?”

Yasha hesitated. “Um, it’s a beautiful night for a stroll.”

Beau snorted. “You’re a really bad liar, you know that, right?”

Finally, Yasha turned around. “I’m leaving.”

“For how long?”

Yasha didn’t answer.

“Come on, Yash, you can’t just leave. We’re your family.”

“You don’t want me here,” Yasha muttered, shaking her head. “Nott had one hand on her crossbow all night. Caleb couldn’t even look at me. Beau, I almost killed you today.”

“None of that was your fault. You’re safe now.”

“For now. What if he does that to me again?”

“Then we’ll get you back again.”

“What if I actually do kill you next time?”

“You won’t.”

“Gods, Beau, why do you even care? Just let me leave!” Beau flinched a little at Yasha’s outburst. She clenched her fists, ready to shout some sense into her, but then Yasha spoke up again. Her voice was so small, so quiet, that her words were almost lost in the empty night air. “I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Yasha,” Beau sighed and took a step forward. “You have no idea how hard it was when he took you. For  _ all _ of us. These past few months, everything we’ve done has been for you. To find you, to fix you, to get you back. Do you think we would’ve gone to all that trouble if we didn’t think you were worth it?”

Yasha’s face was stoic, but Beau reached out and took her free hand. She gave a light squeeze. “I—I don’t know.”

Beau hesitated and took a deep breath. “Every night I would lie awake, tossing and turning, just hoping to hear some thunder. I’m not sure if I was looking for a sign from the Storm Lord that he was looking out for you, or if I just needed something that reminded me of you.”

“Why?”

Beau chuckled. “Do you really need me to say it?”

“Please?” Yasha whispered.

“I fucking care about you, okay? Fuck everyone else. I see you. I care about you. I want you here. Yasha, I…”

Beau trailed off, grasping for words that wouldn’t come to her. That didn’t seem to matter, though, because Yasha’s free hand cupped her cheek and lifted her chin. Their eyes met, and Beau felt her heart stop.

“Beau, I… I wish I could tell you I’m okay, but I’m not.”

“I’m not asking you to be okay. It hasn’t even been a day and he made you do some pretty fucked up shit.” Yasha chuckled softly. “I’m just asking you to stay.”

Yasha stayed quiet. Her brow furrowed in contemplation. She still needed convincing.

“Yasha, please,” Beau sighed, closing her eyes. “I can’t lose you again.”

It was a long, painful silence. Neither one moved, and Beau’s eyes stayed shut, unable to bear looking into Yasha’s eyes as she left. But then, Beau felt soft lips against her own as Yasha kissed her.

Yasha’s kiss was meant to be brief and reassuring, but as soon as she started to draw back, Beau’s hands instinctively grasped at the back of her neck, pulling her in again.

For a moment, Beau was terrified Yasha would grab her sword, and that she would wake up from another nightmare. But Yasha’s arms circled around her waist and pulled her closer. Her tongue pushed past Beau’s lips, and Beau sighed into the kiss. Yasha’s body against hers and her breath on her lips was all the reassurance that Beau needed.

This was real. Yasha was here, and Beau wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.

Eventually, Yasha drew back. She rested her forehead against Beau’s and closed her eyes.

“I can’t promise you anything,” Yasha muttered. “I—I don’t know.”

“I don’t need any promises,” Beau said. “A promise only means there’s something to break.”

Beau wasn’t expecting things to be easy. She was still hurting. Yasha was hurting. They had a lot of broken pieces to put back together before they could find a new normal. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open and Beau could see the fear in them. Hell, Beau was scared too, but the thing that scared her most was standing right in front of her. She waited for Yasha to say something with bated breath.

Finally, Yasha exhaled. The corner of her lips turned up in the smallest hint of a smile.

“I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can only write beauyasha angst right now for some reason, but I hope you enjoy! Comments are always appreciated. And if you want to cry about Yasha feel free to follow/message me on Tumblr @elliesgaymachete.


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